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rival pens

Today's wordypr0n mini-excerpt, Rival Pens, is an epistolatory story, written as letters between two rival playwrights. We have to cut it short, here, as it gets explicit fast, and we don't want to trip the puritan-filters.

Rival Pens Benji Bright

M.,

I do all my best writing in whorehouses. Boys, girls, it hardly matters. As long as there are naked bodies and laughter, wine— cheap or expensive—and skin.What a wonder is the human form! My direct inspiration. In the original copy of this letter I wrote, my erect inspiration, but I worried that your clerk would burn the note before you had a chance to see it should I include such a puerile pun. And to you, dear clerk, who I happen to know screens these letters: you should go out and get fucked. It would do wonders for your dreary temperament.

Anyway, I’m writing, Morvent, to tell you that I have done it. I have cast the boy who will be my Alessio. His lips are soft and red as plums, they’re decadent against his snow-white skin. Unblemished skin. It brings to mind a virgin newly plucked.

He calls himself Rien.

I met him when I stepped out to meet my factor, M. Durant, for lunch.

Can I tell you? I never made the meeting.

So entranced was I with this Rien, who seemed to appear before me as a vision or a portent. I had to have him, but he was coy. We flirted in the street. Shameless! I know it well, but what could I do but fall into those blue, blue eyes?